Chapter 37
Cole had found them in a beautiful cafe where the tables were outside and pretty flowers decorated the place. He'd told them what he felt he could, but Hawke had not taken the news well. She was angry, barely controlling her outrage, and trying to stay calm long enough for Lavellan to assure the spirit boy that all was well. The other patrons looked at the two nervously anyway, as anyone there knew who they were. Lavellan knew she would have to calm the woman down if she wanted to keep things stable in the shop.
"Thank you, Cole, that was very helpful." Lavellan replied, not understanding why Hawke was upset yet.
"I like to help." Cole stated, before disappearing.
"Ra oinmun-theslol dyrlan!" Hawke shouted, angrily, tossing her glass at the nearest wall.
That nug humping bitch!
"I'll pay for that!" Lavellan called out to the disgruntled waiter, before turning to Hawke. "Hawke, you have to calm down, and explain to me what's wrong."
"What's wrong is that woman's had her fingers in my friend's brain for the past decade or so!" Hawke shouted, slamming her fist onto the table since she didn't have a glass to throw anymore. "Of all the things to do to a person, to keep him off limits to others even though she isn't with him, to never allow him to move on…"
"You're going to get her good, aren't you." Lavellan realized, with a mixture of dread and amusement.
"There's never been a Hawke style wingman stunt like what I'm going to do that woman." Hawke promised.
Lavellan was sure that truer words had never been spoken. She isn't sure what Hawke will plan, but then again Hawke has never planned a wingman stunt as a way of revenge on someone not being set up by her. She has to admit, keeping someone on standby like that for over a decade is a bitch move. Varric deserved better than that. His deflections were easier to understand now, but even so, he had one of the biggest hearts she'd ever had the pleasure of calling a friend.
"So, what do you think you and Solas will be doing after all this is over?" Lavellan asked, trying to switch to more pleasant topics.
Hawke smiled, and replied. "Traveling, I'm sure. I can't imagine him staying in one place for long, and traveling as I have with the Inquisition, it reminds me of the better parts of the traveling we always did. I'm kind of looking forward to seeing some of these places he keeps talking about."
"Come on, Hawke, I'm dying over here." Lavellan exclaimed, in mock suffering. "When's the wedding?"
Hawke immediately starts blushing, and mumbles. "We haven't talked about it yet."
"Are you serious?!" Lavellan asked, before bursting out laughing. "You have to be the only woman to not have wedding fever as soon as they're engaged."
"We've been a bit busy!" Hawke insisted, and then upon realizing how that sounded, promptly burst into laughter herself. When she calmed down, she explained. "With everything going on, we just haven't talked about it. I think he's too worried about Sebastian to plan it soon."
Lavellan sobered up at that, and admitted. "I kind of forgot about him. It's like he fell off the map or something."
"Me too, at least for a bit. The longer there's nothing, the more I worry though." Hawke admitted. "I'd hate to think that he's working with Corypheus. Some of those people volunteered, but none of them knew what was going to happen to them, and it was too late to leave when they found out. No one deserves that, not even him."
"Come on. No moping. We promised." Lavellan stated, before standing up and holding out her hand to her. "Want to come look at wedding things with me? We'll scare at least one of them that way."
Hawke laughed as she grabbed Lavellan's hand and stood up. "Why, Inquisitor, I had no idea you fought dirty."
"Always!" Lavellan said, with a laugh, and the two women made their way to one of the many bridal shops in Val Royeaux.
"I am confused. Why would Pride be scared of ribbons?" Cole asked, clearly confused, as he walked alongside Solas.
"Well, that depends, Kid." Varric replied, his lips twitching just a touch. "What else is going on with it?"
"Happy, yet sad. She should be here. Silk or lace? Ribbons or flowers? So many choices, but what would he like? Would this scare him away? Is it too much?" Cole replied, after a moment, and then looked to Varric. "I don't understand. Why would ribbons scare him away?"
"It's not the ribbons, Kid. It's the dress." Varric said, knowingly, with a bit of a chuckle.
"Why would someone be scared of a dress?" Cole asked, turning to Solas.
The elf wasn't going to be of any help, not when he saw Flint dressed as she was. A dress shop, the kid had been talking about a dress shop; a wedding dress shop. Chuckles looked like he wasn't breathing, his breath caught in his throat the moment he'd seen her. Then Lightning had come into view, and just like that, Curly was right there with him. It was way too soon for any of that for him, but he knew that Cassandra loved this stuff just as much as Flint and Lightning did…even if she hid it under her bed.
"Ohhhh." Cole said, looking at how Curly and Chuckles were both reacting. "Should I tell her he isn't afraid?"
"They catch us watching them like this, we'll all be afraid." Varric replied. "Help me move them, will you?"
That night caught them all in various stages of thought. Though they had tried to distract themselves throughout the day, none of them were successful for long. Blackwall was being smuggled out of the city, and they were leaving in the morning. Hawke kept Lavellan somewhat distracted, the two of them huddled over her sketchbook as Hawke made corrections to a drawing that neither Solas or Cullen were allowed to see. Hawke had easily whacked Solas on the knuckles with her pencil when he'd tried, and arched an eyebrow at Cullen like she was asking him if he wanted to try his luck; he did not.
Lavellan was blushing more often than not, which confused everyone. Whatever it was they were doing, Hawke and Lavellan weren't sharing. The others decided it was safer just not to chance it, and left things alone after a while. Their fingers would remain intact that way. She only went to bed when she knew she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.
The next morning, no one spoke a word. The return to Skyhold, to the Inquisition, and Rainier's sentencing, was more important than anything Hawke was cooking up. They were all lost in their own thoughts as they traveled, and soon each went their separate ways. Lavellan headed straight for Josephine, while the others headed for their own rooms, or baths. The woman refused to let anything keep her down, but Lavellan could tell this got to her.
When Rainier woke up, he was pissed. They'd put something in his food and drink last night. Whatever it was had knocked him out, and he woke up in a new cell. He knew then what they'd done. They'd smuggled him to Skyhold.
He'd known as soon as they'd found him in Val Royeaux that they weren't going to let him go, but that meant another man had died in him place. That was something he'd been trying to prevent, another useless death. Now, he was being half dragged before the Inquisitor for sentencing. He couldn't bear to look at Josephine, knowing that she must be angry with him now. Even Lavellan looked like she was having a hard time reigning things in, though he doubted anyone but those who knew her could see it.
"I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall." Josephine announced. Her voice sounded strained, as she tried not to let how this bothered her affect her work. "His crimes..." she swallowed hard before continuing. "You are aware of his crimes. It was no small feat bringing him here, but the decision of what to do with him is now yours."
Lavellan took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. "It brings me no pleasure seeing you like this, Rainier. I wish there could have been another way."
"You could have left me there!" He shouted, his voice revealing the mixed bag of emotions within him. "I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end. Why would you do this? What is to become of me now?"
Silence was his only answer for a moment, and then came the words he'd likely never forget. "You have your freedom."
The crowd behind him slowly began to whisper amongst themselves.
"It can not be as simple as that." Rainer scoffed, shaking his head, confusion clearly heard in his voice.
"No, it isn't." She agreed, and he looked back up at her as her voice took a hard edge he was not use to hearing from her. "You are free to atone for the man you are. Not the traitor you were, or the Warden you pretended to be. So, now that your life is your own, how will you seek your atonement?"
"The man I am? I barely know him." He said, as he looked down in shame and thankfulness. "He…I have a lot to make up for." He closed his eyes, and swallowed hard before he looked back up to Lavellan. What he was about to say was going to be very difficult. "If my future is truly my own, then I pledge it to the Inquisition. My sword and my life are yours, my lady."
He bows as the guards unbound his hands, and she smiles at him.
"Then take your post, Rainier." She stated, with finality, even as the smile faded. "We're done here. Thank you all for being here!"
He went back to the barn where he'd made his room and studio almost as if he were in a daze. He had not been given forgiveness, but he'd been given a chance at it. The man may be many things, but Rainier wasn't foolish enough to waste this chance. Besides, he had Solas in his head reminding him 'Second chances are not to be taken lightly'. The looks of loathing did not escape him, and Rainier wondered just how bad things were going to get before they got better…if they ever did.
"I will admit, I did not expect this." Solas said, surprising him. Rainier hadn't seen him sitting there in the corner.
"Didn't expect what?" Rainer asked, almost defensively.
"That she would give you your freedom, I had expected." Solas admitted. "Both Alhasha and Lavellan reacted too strongly to suspect anything else. For you to choose to stay? That, I had not expected. It is a hard road you travel now, my friend."
"Kind of got that on the way here." Rainer replied, with a snort. "So, when are you going to tell your secrets to Lavellan?"
"I suspect she may know them already, at least in part; but as long as she does not ask and I do not say, there is plausible deniability." Solas replied, with a slight smile. "I am uncertain if I should be the one to break it."
"Why do I always get the feeling like what you say means more than what I catch?" Rainier asked, suddenly.
"Because it does. Isn't that true for everyone?" Solas pointed out, to which Rainier had to nod in admittance. "I am certain that one day, when you look back on this, you will wonder how you ever missed it."
"Missed what?" Rainier asked, unable to stop himself.
"Everything else I've said." Solas replied, before standing up to leave. "Be well, Blackwall, and know that you are not alone here."
With that, he left the man to his thoughts.
Varric stared at the letter one more time, hoping that the words would change. They didn't, but still, a dwarf could hope. Bianca was coming here, and judging by the date of it, she should be here at any moment. He hadn't had any time to prepare, to tell Lavellan, to warn Cassandra. A cough interrupted his thoughts, and when he looked up, his brain just stopped thinking altogether.
Cassandra is in front of him wearing the slinkiest thing he thinks she's ever worn, one of those Antaam-Saar outfits with the ropes along the arms. Everything was black with gold trimming. It displays her well toned stomach muscles quite nicely, and he isn't sure if he'll ever be able to pick his jaw up off the floor. She arches an eyebrow at him, because it's not like he's hidden that fact that he's eyeing her up, but doesn't say anything at first. It's only now that he's noticing how bright her blushing is.
"I take it the armour looks good then?" She asks, after a moment.
"That's armour?" He asks, and tries to clear his throat because that came out a lot more high pitched than he'd meant it to.
"Apparently." She replied, darkly, thinking that he didn't approve. "This was a terrible Idea. I'm going to go take this off."
"Not without me, you're not." The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and she turns back around in surprise. "I mean, I…uh…Andraste's ass, woman, you're gorgeous."
"Oh good. I thought this was foolish there for a moment." Cassandra stated, still blushing, before looking at him as if she's had a sudden thought. "You don't mind if I sit with you, do you?"
"I…uh…of course…I mean of course not! Of course you can sit with me." Varric is more mortified than he has ever been in his life. "Please say something so I'll stop talking."
"You're adorable when you're all flustered." She remarked, as she saunters over to him like she's been hunting him. She takes a seat next to him, and wraps an arm around him before he can speak, and rests her head on his shoulder, her legs draped over his own. "This is nice. I see why they suggested it to me."
"They?" He barely gets out.
"Indeed, dwarf." Lightning says, startling him, but what she's wearing stops him cold. "They."
Her outfit is almost as revealing as Cassandra's, though hers is in greens and golds. It suits her tanned complexion, and that's when he realizes he's staring at her too, with Cassandra draped all over him. She's sultry, and she looks at him with a knowing smirk. Cassandra is acting like this is commonplace, and he isn't really sure what to do about it. She sits on the other side of him, and playfully fiddles with the collar of his shirt.
"Um, Lightning? What…what are you doing?" He asked. Warning bells are ringing off in his mind, and he's trying to make sense of it all.
"Nothing at all, Varric." She replies back, a little too innocently. "Don't you like it?"
"And here I thought you were going to start without me." Flint remarks, as she saunters into the room, wearing a mischievous smirk…and not much else.
Her outfit is like Cassandra's as well, but hers are black and that deep bright red she likes so much; Highever weave. She's crossing the room, and all Varric can hear is his blood in his ears and the whispers of just about every noble in the Great Hall. Many are wondering what is going on, but all he knows is that Flint just eyed him like he was some kinda man meat before sitting down in front of Cassandra. Her back is to the woman, and she rests her head on his left leg. Josephine walks over from where her desk was, wearing a gold and black version of what the others are wearing, and sits in front of Lightning, holding her clipboard still as she leans comfortably against his right leg.
More and more people are staring, and he's fairly certain he's the colour of a tomato right now. Vivienne walking over wearing a white and silver version of the 'uniform' as he's dubbing it in his mind now. Not to be outdone, she takes a nearby stool and sits behind him above everyone else. It's not long before she's playing with his hair, something he never thought he'd ever imagine her doing.
"Would someone mind telling me what's going on? Am I going to die?" He asks, a little afraid of the answer. "Was there some kind of secret healer scan, and you guys are trying to butter me up before I meet the Maker?" They all start laughing at him.
"Oh, so that's the game this time, is it?" Flint asks, without missing the beat. What the fuck?
"Who gets to be the 'healer' this time though?" Lightning asks, looking across and down to Flint. "You got to play 'the naughty mage' last time."
"That's because I'm always the naughty mage." Flint replies, in a sultry manner.
"Well, someone has to teach you how to behave, Dear." Vivienne adds.
"That's it, I am going to die." He mutters to himself. In no world does what's happening around him make sense.
"I suppose I'll have to be the one to take care of you." Cassandra stated, with a reluctant sigh as she traces her fingers across the bare parts of his chest that his tunic reveals. He shutters in spite of himself. "It's not like you ever follow my advice. You never seem to want to stay in bed. I may have to tie you down this time."
"Oh, the strict healer it is." Josephine muses. "I don't think we've ever played that game before."
"Don't worry, dwarf, we'll take care of you." Vivienne said, suggestively.
Anders isn't sure what he's looking at, but he can't stop staring now that he's started. Solas is talking to him, and try as he might, he can't bring himself to answer the elf. He'd planned on talking to the dwarf about a game of DiamondBack, but now he was frozen in some kind of weird limbo he wasn't sure how to get out of. Hawke, along with most of the other 'Ladies of the Inquisition', was hanging all over Varric like he was some kind of Harem king. Solas walks out of the rotunda, followed by Biscuit, and sees what's going on.
"At least now I know what she made with all that fabric from Val Royeaux." Solas chuckled slightly. "I wonder how long he's been like that."
"Maybe ten minutes tops." Iron Bull answered, as he leaned against the wall by the door to the rotunda, before muttering. "Lucky bastard."
"Bout time you lot noticed. We didn't think you were ever going to show." Sera said, with a snort.
"Not sure who'd want to miss this." Leliana stated, with a smirk as she walked by them…wearing a chain-mail and white version of the antaam-saar. "You should open up your legs a bit more for me, dwarf, I need somewhere to sit too. Don't worry, I won't touch you anywhere…unless of course you want me to."
" Solas, I need to talk to you about…" Cullen stated, having come through the rotunda from his office, trailing off when he sees what they're all looking at. "What...What are they doing?"
"Who wants to bet it's a wingman attempt?" Anders asked, a little distractedly.
"Of course it's a wingman attempt." Dorian scoffed, as he walked out of the rotunda from the Library. "What are they do…Oh…that woman is going to be spitting nails when she sees this."
"There is a rather angry look'n dwarven chic over there." Sera noted, with amusement.
"I don't think I've ever been in this position before." Cullen admitted, unable to look away from Lavellan. "Should we say something? Do we act angry at him, or wish we were him?"
"Nah, let him live the dream." Iron Bull chuckled. "He looks like he's in pain anyway."
"Oh, he is." Solas chuckled in agreement. Dorian is snickering in the background.
If Bianca has said anything of importance, Varric can't seem to make himself pay attention to it. The others are doing small little distracting things every time she talks. Cassandra is caressing his chest still, and he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but he could swear she was nibbling on one of his earlobes every so often. Vivienne is giving him the nest neck massage he's had in ages, while Lightning seems focused on massaging his arm and hand. Flint and Leliana focus on massaging his lower legs, and Josephine looks at Bianca expectantly, as if this were all normal.
"Who are you all anyway?" Bianca is practically seething.
"Oh, us?" Lightning asks, a little too innocently.
"Why that's simple really, darling." Vivienne replies, with her cool air of condescension.
"We are 'the Ladies of the Inquisition'." Leliana adds coyly.
"And this man is ours." Cassandra said, pointedly.
"Run along now." Flint adds, though her voice dips to something filled with warning and promise, somehow still remaining sultry as well. "Don't worry. We'll get to you soon enough."
Bianca looks angry enough to kill, but she can't do anything here. She glares at them all, before calmly making her way out of the building. The women are laughing so hard, they actually do end up hanging off of him for support. It dawns on him finally, just what they've done, and he can't believe they would pull together to do something like this for him. He can't believe Cassandra agreed to it either.
"That worked out splendidly." Josephine remarks, after getting up. Vivienne agrees with her, already on her way to change into something 'more fit to be seen in'.
"I do love it when a good plan comes together." Flint hums, winking at some of the orlesian ladies, who promptly turn towards themselves as if they hope to hide the fact that they've been listening in. "You ladies were absolutely wonderful."
The others begin going back to whatever it is they normally did, leaving behind a very confused and frustrated dwarf. It's not like anyone touched anywhere inappropriately, but with Cassandra there as she was, doing what she was doing, it was like sensory overload. By the time he's calm enough to think with his actual brain, all the women are gone, Cassandra included; not that she hadn't smirked at him as she left. However, he is not alone. Some of the guys had taken seats from near the hearth, and were now camped around him as if waiting for him to say something.
Solas just looks at him with knowing eyes, as a mischievously evil grin spreads across his face until something like Flint's wolfish grin is there as he asks. "So, how were they?"
That seemed to break the ice around the others, and now everyone is laughing so hard they can't see straight.
"I hate you, Chuckles." Varric says, even as he's laughing at him. "I hate you so much."
"Lath'in, that was…wicked of you…" Solas remarked, as he walked into the courtyard where he found Alhasha sitting near the training dummies, only she didn't respond, and now he's feeling her fear radiating out to him. "Lath'in, what is wrong?…Lath'in?"
Worry takes hold of him as he realizes she isn't responding to anything. She's too busy shaking as she stares at a piece of paper in her hand. He's kneeling in front of her, trying to get her to react to him, to say something. She's trying to breathe, but it catches every time, and she looks set to hit a full blown panic if he can't think of someway to pull her out of it. Solas knows that her magic is strong enough that if she were to project it uncontrollably, it could destroy Skyhold.
"Flint?…" Varric asks, as he's walking up, taking in Alhasha's ever growing panic and Solas' worry, before calmly walking over and sitting down next to her. He's taken the hand not holding onto the letter into his own. "Hawke, I need you to concentrate on your breathing. Can you do that for me?"
He somehow sees that she isn't going to be able to get her breathing under control on her own, and places her hand on Solas's shirt; right above where the jawbone necklace rests.
"Copy his breathing. You can get through this." Varric said, keeping his voice calm and soothing. In quieter tones, he whispers to Solas. "Slow deep breaths, Solas. Try to send calm through that bond thing of yours." Looking back to Alhasha, he continues. "What helps you? What do you need?"
"Min tas…dy vara." Alhasha manages, and relief flood through him. It isn't much, but he holds onto it, sending it to her every time she repeats the words.
This too…shall pass.
She slowly seems to calm enough to come back to herself, but the sight of the paper makes her shake again. Unsure of what else to do, Solas places his hand over the one holding the paper.
"Whatever it is, ara lath, we will make it through." Solas states, trying to keep his tone soothing. "You are strong enough to weather this."
"Vael…is in Skyhold…" Alhasha manages. Solas moves from where he'd been kneeling, sitting next to her as he gently pulls her into his arms. "He left this…wanted me to see him…to be there…negotiate…Skyhold…Lavellan…"
"Varric." Solas said, calling the dwarf's attention, as he gently took the letter from the woman in his arms. "Read this. We need to know what it is that has upset her to this point." The dwarf gives a quick nod as he takes the letter, and Solas returns his attentions to Alhasha. "Tell me what you need, Lath'in. I do not know what to do."
"I'll be fine…" She tries to convince him. "I just…need a minute." He is not convinced, but understands that even now she is trying to comfort him.
"Lath'in, let me help you." Solas murmured into her hair. "You do not have to go through this alone."
"Solas…it's bad." She tries to tell him. "He wants…he wants…"
"Shit." Varric curses, bringing Solas' attention to him. "She's right, Solas, this is bad."
"What is it? What does he want now?" Solas asked, unconsciously tightening his grip on Alhasha.
"To reveal who you are to the Inquisition, to have you tried for your crimes against the Divine." Varric said, looking from him to the letter and back again. "He claims to have proof this time. From the looks of things, he still wants Hawke, and he plans on destroying you to do it."
"Fenedhis." He cursed to himself, before looking over to Varric again. "He will want to meet then. When? Is there enough time to talk to Lavellan beforehand?"
"A little. Not enough." Varric replied. Solas' mind was working rapidly now, trying to think of something to help her.
"Send for her. Tell her it's urgent. If she's received a summons by Vael as Alhasha has, she'll understand." Solas replied, before scooping the woman up into his arms. "We will be in our room. Tell her to meet us there at once."
"You are worried…for me?" Solas asked, when he set her down in their room. Hawke nodded, even as she quickly raced to find more suitable clothes, considering she was still wearing the antaam-saar. "Alhasha, you told me that one day it might come to this. That it has taken him this long to find proof of who I am…It is time we should not expected to have. You were right. Lavellan should know, and I hate that I waited until Vael sent you into a panic to do this."
She still shook, even as she changed into something that covered just about everything. It was foolish of her, she knew, but she didn't want Vael to see a single bit of her. He always looked like he was secretly trying to devour her with his eyes, and it made her feel dirty. It did not feel the same when Solas looked at her like that, because there was love mixed in, along with admiration and respect. Vael would still make her feel like she were cheap, even in this.
"Ar'an shor rosa'sule'din min, ara lath'in." Solas insisted, when she still looked unsure. "Na shaesi vol. Ar'an ane soun'aelyl."
We will survive this, my place where love lives – You were right. We are strong enough
"Hawke? Solas? It's me. Can I come in?" Lavellan called from outside of the door, only moments later. "Varric said this was urgent. I only just got the message. There's something I need to tell you."
"We know, Lethal'lan." Solas explained, as he opened the door to allow Lavellan in. "We have something to tell you as well."
"I just got the message that Vael is in Skyhold, and he wants to meet with me." Lavellan said, looking a bit puzzled as she paced the room. "He's been to the War Room already, left a painting dating back to the time of Elvhenan, and it looks…it looks a lot like the two of you."
"That's because it is." Solas replied, quietly.
Lavellan sat down instantly, thanking the Creators that there was a chair right behind her. She had to have heard wrong. Honestly, she'd had her theories, but for Solas to just blurt it out like that. Technically, he hasn't said anything yet, but it was enough. With a sigh, she looked at them both, and knew she wouldn't be able to keep her theories to herself any longer.
"Sulahn'ean." She said, looking over to Hawke. "I heard him call you Sulahn'ean, and it reminded me of a story from my childhood. There has only ever been one, out of respect or fear, I'm not sure. But I read the story again, and too much fit. The way you got sent back to ancient Arlathan, the way you and Solas are around each other, too much fit. If you are truly that Sulahn'ean, then you" Lavellan turns her head to Solas. "are Fen'harel."
"Yes." Solas answered, with a sigh. "I am."
"Fenedhis. I've been trying to wrap my mind around that for months, but for you to just…" Lavellan exclaimed, and then sighed. "There's more, isn't there? Vael wouldn't come here with this, with proof, unless he was sure it could ruin you and give him Hawke. What did you do?"
"Are you sure you want to know, Lethal'lan?" Solas asked, giving her a way out, she supposed.
"If I'm to come up with something in order to deal with Vael? Yeah. I need to know, Solas, everything." Lavellan insisted, trying to remain in Inquisitor mode. "Sorry, it's just too weird to call you Fen'harel for me."
"That is alright, Lethal'lan. I prefer Solas anyway. It was my name, after all, before the title of Fen'harel was given." Solas explained, and sat down in a chair nearby. He took her hand into his own, the one with the mark, and said the words that changed her life forever. "This is mine."
"I'm sorry?" She was a bit confused. He couldn't mean…
"The anchor, the magic that exists within this mark is mine. It is why I was able to keep it from killing you before." He replied, carefully. She listened as he explained the Foci, the indirect leading of the Venatori, the explosion of the Conclave, scrambling around to fix his mistake, finding Hawke, the spell that took Hawke to ancient Arlathan, everything. "Lethal'lan, there is nothing I can say that will make this right, that will correct what I have done, but this is not about me. This is about Alhasha, all of it. I can not tell you what to do now, but I ask that you keep her safe from him, should you choose to sentence me."
"The deaths of the Divine, all those people, was done before your memories returned to you?" She asked, not answering him.
"Yes." He said, and she's unsure if she's ever heard his voice as quiet as it is now.
"Is it something you would do now that you have them?" She asked, trying to keep her mind from being overwhelmed.
"No. Alhasha is too important to me to risk that." Solas replied. "Lethal'lan, I…"
"You realize this is your fault, at least twice over?" She asked, looking to him now, her eyes searching his. He looked tired.
"Yes, Lethal'lan." He replied, with a slight nod.
"You were right, this is a lot." She murmured, looking away, but a sudden thought had her head shooting up to look at him again. "How did he get to you before?"
"We were in the Fade. There was a pricking sensation on my neck. I was on the ship before I woke up." He answered, and waited.
"And the torture?" She asked. She didn't have to elaborate.
"Magebane. Some had to have been in my system already, and I was supplied with an alarmingly large quantity of it at a steady rate." Solas replied. "I suspect Alhasha was the only reason I was able to keep my mind at all."
"Lavellan, please…I know it's unfair to ask, but…" Hawke tried to plead, but Lavellan held up her hand to stop her.
"We are going to deal with Vael, and then afterwords, the three of us are going to lock ourselves in a room and have a very very long conversation." Lavellan stated, keeping her eyes closed. It helped her think. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, Inquisitor." Hawke said, quietly, her voice shaking. Lavellan looked up to see how truly nervous the young woman was.
"I need a minute to think." Lavellan stated, closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. When she looked back up, they each had an arm around each other as they looked to her. "Alright, you two, here's what we're going to do."